20. Jenny
Chapter 20
Jenny
Anakeesta ends up being a whirlwind of fun and adventure. If I thought Trent was goofy before, it is nothing compared to the excitement he exudes as we ride the railroad and zipline over the mountain. Trent seems lighter here, carefree and full of energy. It’s been nice to relax and enjoy nature and each other's company. I feel closer to Trent than I have the whole time I’ve been working for him.
The rest of the day passes in a blur, and at dusk, I get truly excited because I cannot wait for the hanging bridges. “This has been so much fun,” I tell Trent, my voice filled with excitement.
“Definitely,” Trent agrees, his grin out in full force. “I don’t know why I’ve never come here before. Our friends would love this place. It reminds me of the activities we did on the cruise we took last summer for Greg and Holly’s wedding.”
“I bet that was a fun trip.”
“It was,” he says, “but I’m betting the hanging bridges are going to be just as great.”
“I hope so,” I say. “From what I read online it looks really pretty at night.”
We head over to the entrance of the hanging bridges, and I squeal in excitement. It’s more gorgeous than I could have imagined. The lights create a magical glow, illuminating the path through the trees. The strands of twinkling lights line the wooden bridges and wraparound tree trunks. The soft, golden glow reflects off the leaves and trunks, casting gentle patterns of light and shadow, as lanterns hang at random intervals, adding a rustic, whimsical charm. I glance over at Trent, and his smile is brighter than ever.
“This is awesome,” he says, his voice filled with awe.
“It feels so magical. Like we're stepping into a fairy tale of sorts.”
We walk along the bridges quietly, taking in our surroundings. I love that Trent and I can be together without any words. Even in the quiet, I feel seen. It feels nice to be seen. For once, everything feels simple and right.
“It reminds me,” I say softly, “of our wedding.” I pull my arms tighter around myself to help keep some warmth as the night gets chillier.
“How so?” Trent asks, his tone gentle and curious.
“The fairy-tale feeling. On our wedding day, I felt that way too.”
Trent steps closer to me and wraps his arms around me, pulling me gently against him. His hands trace soothing patterns up and down my arms.
“I had a similar thought that day too,” he says. “And you looked beautiful, like something straight out of a fairy tale.”
I lean back into him and enjoy his body heat. It never fails that in his arms, I feel safe, cared for. From that first day he saved me to dancing on our wedding day to now, I feel safe and content with him. In this moment, there is no rushing around, no expectations, just him and me, standing in this quiet, magical, fairy-tale world.
Trent pulls me in tighter, his embrace comforting and strong. After a while, I say, “We should probably head back soon.” I reluctantly pull away from him.
Trent nods in agreement. “You’re right. But Jenny . . .” He lifts his head, his eyes searching mine. The way he looks at me makes my heart skip a beat.
“What is it?” I step closer to him and take his hand in mine.
His gaze softens, and he shakes his head, his expression turning more serious. “Let’s get you out of this cold air.”
He starts to turn away, but I still have his hand in mine and, almost as if I’m not in control of my body, I pull him softly back toward me. He turns back in confusion, and I don’t think—I just act.
Reaching up with my other hand, I cup his cheek. Our eyes meet, and in that moment, I forget everything except the warmth of his skin under my hands. I pull him the rest of the way toward me. His lips are warm and firm against mine as I kiss him.
It only takes Trent a moment to react, and then I’m being pulled flush against his warm, strong chest. Our kiss deepens as he reaches around and cups the back of my head, pulling me closer to his lips. No warning signs go off, no fear of ruining our friendship, just the passion and care that we have for each other coming out in this kiss. It’s filled with longing, with emotions we’ve both kept hidden.
I let go of his hands and pull his jacket toward me, my fingers trembling as I lose myself in this feeling. Our lips move at a slow pace, nothing rushed about this kiss. A tear slips down my cheek, and I let it fall, overwhelmed by the intensity of this moment. How can this guy be so perfectly perfect?
Fire rages inside me and it’s all I can do to hold on and not burst into flames. His kiss is passion come to life. His hands, calloused and rough from days working on boats and cabins, brush against my cheeks and through my hair, making me feel cherished.
It’s not until another couple walks by that I remember where we are. I step back, blushing furiously.
“I guess we should probably head back,” I say in a whisper. My voice is barely audible over the pounding of my heart.
“Yeah,” Trent says, taking his hat off and brushing his hand through his hair before putting it back on his head.
Back to our cabin. Our cabin with one bed. One bed that we will be sharing again tonight. But I don’t mind. I’ll be awake, replaying that kiss in my mind over and over.
At the cabin, Trent offers me the bathroom first. I quickly change into my pajamas before I step out. “The bathroom’s all yours now,” I say, my voice quieter than usual. My steps falter a bit as I see him standing there in pajama pants and a T-shirt.
“Thanks. You can pick whichever side of the bed you prefer. I’m not picky,” he replies, turning toward the bathroom with a smile.
I quickly get settled into bed. When Trent emerges from the bathroom, the dim light of the room casts soft shadows on his face, only highlighting his handsome features.
He turns out the lights and climbs into bed next to me. Even with the weather cool outside, he rolls the comforter toward my side, keeping just the sheet over him. I happily take the covers, as I’m now shivering slightly from both the cold and the nervous energy coursing through me.
“It’s so chilly at night here,” I murmur, my teeth practically rattling.
“Here,” he says, reaching toward me. “Come here?” He gestures toward his side of the bed.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“I’m trying to warm you up,” Trent says, his voice soft but firm. “Come on, Jenny, just let me hold you. I don’t want you to freeze tonight, and I can help give you some body warmth.”
I hesitate for a moment, the cold biting at my skin and my thoughts swirling. Slowly, I inch toward him, his warmth radiating like a lifeline. “Oh, alright,” I mumble, relenting. “But only for a moment.”
As soon as I’m pressed against him, heat floods my chilled body, the contrast almost startling. I try to ignore the storm of emotions roaring inside me as I give in to the comfort of his warmth. Without thinking, I nuzzle into him, seeking more, and lace my fingers with his. “How the heck are you so warm? You’re literally like a miniature heater.”
He smirks, the corners of his mouth quirking up with that playful charm I’ve come to know. “I can assure you there’s nothing miniature about me,” he says, his voice rich with amusement.
I gasp, the heat in my cheeks growing. “Oh my gosh, I cannot believe you just said that. I’d smack you right now if it didn’t mean I’d have to leave these warm sheets.” I glance down at our entwined fingers, realizing just how much comfort his touch brings. “I feel warmer already.”
He chuckles, the sound deep and warm, wrapping around me like a blanket. “You can stay here as long as you’d like. I’m not going anywhere.”
Unable to resist, I press myself closer to him, drawn by an invisible force. When I glance up, his face is less than an inch from mine, his eyes soft and full of something that makes my heart skip a beat.
“Hi,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.
“Hi,” I echo, breathless, my words caught in the gravity pulling us together.
Our lips meet, and the world fades. The kiss ignites something deep inside me, like a spark catching. It’s as though we’re picking up right where we left off at the hanging bridges, but this time, it’s more. His kisses sear through me, spreading heat from head to toe.
The sensation of sharing a bed with him—feeling his warmth, his closeness—sends a giddy rush through me. Trent, my husband, is kissing me. And it feels like magic.
His hand slides down my body, tracing a path to where my pajama shirt meets the waistband of my pants. His fingers slip beneath the fabric, the contact sending a thrill through me. Goosebumps ripple across my skin as his warm hand settles in at the dip of my waist. The simple touch feels reverent, like I’m something precious.
Time seems to suspend itself as we kiss, exploring each other with hands and mouths, lost in the moment. His lips are soft, his movements gentle, a stark contrast to the strength and firmness of his body.
Eventually, the fire between us ebbs into a quiet intimacy. We hold each other in the stillness of the night, the only sounds the soft rhythm of our breathing. His arms wrap around me, anchoring me in a way that feels safe, secure.
“Good night, Trent,” I murmur, my voice barely audible as sleep begins to take me.
“Good night, wifey,” he whispers back, his voice low and full of warmth.
Wrapped in his embrace, I let myself drift off, my heart full, and my body cocooned in his quiet strength.
Still not fully awake, I snuggle deeper into my pillow, burying my face into its soft, comforting warmth. The bed is like a cocoon—so warm, so inviting—I never want to leave it. The cool air from the cabin drifts softly across my face, sending a gentle shiver down my spine. I press my cheek further into the pillow, savoring the texture of the soft fabric against my skin. But then—something feels off. The pillow shifts slightly beneath my head.
Wait, what? Pillows don’t move. My eyes snap open, my heartbeat quickening as last night comes flooding back. It’s not the pillow I’m nuzzling into; it’s Trent. My leg is draped over his. My arm is tucked into his side; his arms are still cradling me, just as they were last night.
Oh no, what have I done? Jenny, you stupid, stupid girl. Why did you let your emotions take over? Bad, this is bad bad bad. I shouldn’t have kissed Trent at the hanging bridges or last night when we got back to the cabin. This is only going to make things more complicated. We are going to separate in a year. You can’t be getting physically and emotionally connected to someone you know is going to leave you in a year. Your heart can’t take it again. You need to set up boundaries, starting with physical ones—no more kissing, no more sharing a bed. Without boundaries, you’re going to get hurt. And this time, it might not be a hurt you can come back from.
Not wanting to disturb Trent’s sleep, I carefully lift my leg from his, placing it back on the bed with deliberate slowness. The weight of his arm around me shifts, his breath warm against my skin. I can feel the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath his chest. I don’t think I can take this much longer. Being this close to him and knowing it’s only causing more pain is too much.
A soft “mmm” escapes from him, and he buries his face in my hair and neck. The sound and movement send a flash of warmth through me, igniting something deep inside. As much as I want to pull away, there’s something comforting about being held like this, so close and protected.
“Good morning,” he mumbles, his voice husky from sleep. His arms curl instinctively around my waist. “I like waking up next to you,” he says. His body adjusts to hold me tighter, pulling me closer to his chest.
“Good morning,” I reply, my voice quiet. I want to stay in his warm strong arms, but I can’t give in to the emotions. Emotions were not part of the plan. This cannot continue or else I’ll lose my heart to him. “If you don’t mind, could I . . . ?” I gesture to his limbs entangled with mine.
“What?” Trent says, sounding confused.
“I need to get out of this bed.”
“Oh, sorry,” Trent says, slowly untangling himself from me, his gaze distant. His fingertips brush against my skin as he moves, sending a shiver down my spine. “I guess I thought . . . well, I don’t know what I thought.”
“No worries,” I say as I slide out of bed, my heart still racing at his nearness. I close the bathroom door behind me and lean back against it. My skin feels flushed. My mind replays the warmth of his embrace, the way his arms held me protectively, naturally. Oh my gosh, it felt so good to be held in his arms. It felt like I belonged there, like it was something meant to be. But it’s not. We aren’t meant to be together. Our time is counting down.
After showering, I feel like I can face Trent without blushing. I head out of the bathroom. Trent is already in the small kitchen, fixing coffee and breakfast. The aroma of eggs and sausage fills the room.
“What’s on the agenda today?” I say, trying to keep things light and wanting to skip any awkward conversation about getting out of bed this morning.
“Well, I was thinking we could drive through Cades Cove and have a picnic before we try out the trail Sheryl told us about,” Trent says, his voice calm and easy. No awkwardness lingers between us.
“That sounds nice,” I agree, taking a coffee from him as he finishes cooking. “Thank you for making breakfast.”
“My pleasure. What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t take care of my wife on our honeymoon?” Trent’s eyes sparkle, and he flashes an easy smile that always seems to catch me off guard. Ugh, why does he have to be so perfect? Jenny you’re going to have to keep your walls up today.